


Bad Moon Rising

by kayleeschuyler (stephaniebithell)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Challenge, Langst, Werewolf Bite, attacked by a werewolf, being bitten by a werewolf, but no gore, in depth description of attack, langst halloween challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 23:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniebithell/pseuds/kayleeschuyler
Summary: Safe.That word had used to mean something to Lance.  It used to mean that if he was scared or upset he could run into his Mama’s arms and feel the warmth that she exuded.  It meant that when he had been bullied at school, he could come home and talk to his Papa about how to handle the bullying.  It had meant that when he had spotted a large creature roaming the property when he was 12, his Tio had taken him out and taught him how to shoot a gun.Safe had meant everything to Lance.  But the truth was that ‘Safe’ was a lie.  No one was ever safe.  No matter what his Mama or Papa would say, no matter how much his Tio taught him how to protect himself.  Lance hadn’t been safe.  He hadn’t been able to stop the attack.  All it had taken was a quick nip and Lance’s life was over.





	Bad Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my entry for [Langstymclangstface](https://langstymclangstface.tumblr.com/) Monster Mash. I was given the Werewolf, which at first I was really happy about since I thought it would be such an easy prompt to do, but in reality, it was hard. I struggled to come up with a story that hadn’t been already done to death and that would fit with the langst theme. In the end, this is what I came up with, so I hope that you enjoy.

Lance sniffled as he sat on the top of the hill, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders, he winced at the sharp pain that radiated from his neck.  It was dusk on a warm summer day, some could argue that that day had been a perfect one.  A light breeze, the smell of salt on it from the ocean not far away, the sun had been forgiving and there had been fluffy white clouds floating across the sky all day.

He snorted at the thought.  A perfect day?  Maybe for everyone else, but not for Lance.  The day had started out fine, he had woken up with a slight ache in his bones but nothing that he hadn’t been feeling for the past few days.  Not since the previous month when he had gone camping by himself in the forest on his family’s property.  It was something he and his siblings would do from time to time.  Something that their parent’s had encouraged as they had grown older.  A way for their children go get some space from the large family and to gain some independence while still being safe at home.

Safe.

That word had used to mean something to Lance.  It used to mean that if he was scared or upset he could run into his Mama’s arms and feel the warmth that she exuded.  It meant that when he had been bullied at school, he could come home and talk to his Papa about how to handle the bullying.  It had meant that when he had spotted a large creature roaming the property when he was 12, his Tio had taken him out and taught him how to shoot a gun.

Safe had meant everything to Lance.  But the truth was that ‘Safe’ was a lie.  No one was ever safe.  No matter what his Mama or Papa would say, no matter how much his Tio taught him how to protect himself.  Lance hadn’t been safe.  He hadn’t been able to stop the attack.  All it had taken was a quick nip and Lance’s life was over.

He hadn’t seen it coming.  It had crept up on him in the middle of the night when the moon was at it’s fullest.  The light had been a trap.  It had convinced Lance that there was nothing to fear in his little clearing.  He could see everything that moved in the forest.  The tree’s weren’t thick enough to block his view and he could hear the gurgling of the creek nearby.  Lance knew there was nothing in this forest that could hurt him.  Nothing large enough to take down a fully grown man with a gun nearby.

But his arrogance had been his downfall.

Lance had forgotten the stories his Mama had told him as a child.  The stories of a beast that would creep into people’s houses and take the naughty children.  A beast that was said to live in the very forest he was camping in.  Lance, of course, had put it down to a old wives tale designed to help mother’s control their unruly children.

How wrong he was.

He had been sitting near his small fire, looking up at the stars through the gap in the tree canopy, when he had heard it.  The slight crackle in the underbrush.  The rustling of the foliage of the small bushes.  The low growl that grew louder and louder.  He had frozen at the growl.  It sounded too large to be a normal dog.  He had been slowly reaching for his bag that had his gun when he saw it.  

A large beast, with glowing red eyes, yellowing razor sharp teeth, black shaggy fur that seemed to go every which way, and the aura of death that surrounded it.  Lance had yelled as it pounced.  He had scrambled for his bag when it hit him, knocking him over.  It turned around and stared at where Lance lay on the ground, quivering in fear.  It seemed to laugh, as much as a beast could laugh, and slowly padded over to him.

Lance had scrambled backwards, grabbing anything within reach to throw at the beast.  It continued it’s slow stalking, it’s large head barely moving to duck the projectiles coming towards it.  Lance had felt his back hit a tree and he had known he had run out of places to run.  He had closed his eyes and started to pray, accepting his death, hoping that if anything else, the beast would leave his family alone.

The pain had been excruciating.  The beast had clamped down on the junction of Lance’s neck and shoulder.  But where Lance had excepted it to rip him apart, it hadn’t.  Instead, after the beast had bitten him, it had turned around and left him.  It had left a wounded prey, sitting on the ground, waiting for the jaws of death to take it, and had left.

Lance barely remembers how he had raced back home.  How he had woken his family up in a panic.  How his Mama had screamed at the blood he was covered in.  His own blood.  How his Papa and Tio, despite Lance’s pleas to not go out there, had rounded up his older brothers, and Veronica, and had gone hunting for the beast.  

It had been a month since then.  His family hadn’t found any evidence of where the beast had gone, the paw prints just disappearing.  They had reported the attack to the authorities, but without any proof on where the beast may be now, all they could do was be vigilant.

Lance knew something wasn’t right.  The beast had seemed almost too intelligent.  The way it had laughed at his attempts to stop it.  Combined with the way it had just disappeared.  It was almost as if it was supernatural.  

When the aches had started a week later, Lance wondered if the creature had made him ill.  His Mama had cleaned the wound as best she could, had even taken him to the local hospital for stitches, but since it was a canine bite, they could only do so much.  There could be any number of diseases that it could have been carrying.

The pains had been getting progressively worse as the month went on.  Not only that, but Lance himself had been changing.  His normally healthy appetite had tripled, but only for red meats barely cooked.  His eyesight and hearing had improved as well.  His speed and stamina which had been non existent previously, now could rival an Olympian.

When he had woken that morning, the pains had been there just as usual.  But instead of being a constant ache, they had heightened as the day went on.  By the time lunch had come and gone, Lance couldn’t move without feeling like he should be screaming in agony.

When the sun had started to set, his family had been setting up for an evening party, as they usually did on nights like this.  When the temperature was just right and the wind was kind.  But Lance couldn’t focus on that.  All he could do was try to fight the pain.  It wasn’t until he had smelled the meat that his Papa had taken out to cook, that he knew what had happened.

Lance had run.  Run as fast as he could until he had found the hill he now sat upon.  The chills he was feeling were not because of the breeze, but of what he now knew was the truth.  The beast had done something to him.  It had made him ill.  It had been more intelligent than a normal beast.  It had been supernatural.  

It had been a Werewolf.

And the full moon was rising.


End file.
